Countdown
by Notaslongasthat
Summary: Lucien and Jean countdown to the New Year - among other things


**So, I had a moment spark into my head and it unravelled to this. I've just recently found TDBM and binged watched everything in a shameful (not really) amount of time. :)**

The Christmas tree was still up, its sparkling lights illuminating the room. Jean Beazley did not think her heart could feel fuller than it already did – sitting with Lucien on the couch; reflecting back on a perfect Christmas. She felt him readjust himself beside her and in doing so, pulled her close. She gripped his wrist, turning it to read the time on his watch.

"Ten more seconds, Lucien."

"Hmm," he returned, securing her more tightly, his right hand content at the curve of her hip, the other sought out her chin, gently tilting her to meet his eyes. He waited a moment.

"Happy new year, Jean."

"That it will be," she whispered at his cheek before meeting his warm kiss. "Happy new year, Lucien," she returned as she pulled back.

Lucien murmured, "One thing will make it happier."

At her crooked eyebrow, he chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

"Our wedding," he clarified.

"Oh," she swallowed. "Well, yes."

Her fingers brushed through his beard. Her eyes were darkened when she teased, "And is that all?"

She quickly nipped at his upper lip and moved to settle in his lap before he could respond.

"Jean… I," he stuttered. "There are many happy things I look forward to, darling."

"Mhmm," she threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging his lips down to meet the spot where her jawline met her neck. She instantly could feel his kisses burning into her skin. He kissed down to her collarbone and across the warm skin at the top of her breast. His kisses became more heated. He inhaled her perfume; feeling as though there was no sweeter form of torture. That is, until he heard her rasp out his name. It was almost indecipherable behind a throaty plea, "Lucien…"

"I'm counting the days," he moaned beneath her. "Eighty three…" he breathed. She protested through a whine as his hands swept across her back, restless and full of need.

"Less than twelve weeks," he offered, pulling her down for a kiss, settling his roaming hands at her sides.

"It sounds longer when you say it like that," she griped. "Too long -"

His eyes were dangerous with desire but more than yearning, she saw affection. Sweet, tender affection swam beyond the darkened blues which was matched by his palms and fingers, squeezing softly and repetitively at the jut of her hips. She couldn't help but be affected by the combination of eagerness and patience his touch conveyed. He was hers. "Eighty three," she cried and rocked her hips subtly against him. She bit her lip and shook her head slowly. She reached down to place her hands on top of his, still teasing at her hips. She pressed down against him more firmly and at the same time pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Eighty two…"

He wasn't sure he heard what she said until she continued, "Eighty one, eighty," she peppered kisses down to his cheek. "Seventy nine…" she kissed his other cheek, "seventy eight…."

"Jean?" he asked cautiously.

"Seventy seven…" she answered at his lips, touching hers lips to his briefly before working her way to his chin… "seventy six…". She buried her nose down his neck, persisting with kiss after kiss, each preceded by a number. "Seventy five, seventy four, seventy three, seventy two…."

His hands descended as her countdown did and were settled comfortably against her bottom. He didn't know exactly what she had up her sleeve but with kisses to every part of her hair his mouth could reach, he joined in, "seventy-one, seventy, sixty-nine, sixty-eight…."

Jean smiled against his neck.

"Sixty-seven, sixty-six.." he continued rambling off. "Sixty-five...sixty four…sixty three..." He brought his hands up to cup her face, waiting for her to carry on. After all, she started this game. "Sixty...two... Jean?"

"I'm done counting," she decided. "No more counting. No more waiting."

"Jeannie?" he questioned and found her hands. He blanketed them between his larger ones. "Are you -"

"-Please, Lucien. I've never been more certain. How could anything that feels this right be wrong? I'm sure. I'm so sure of you...more than anything I've ever believed in..." her voice tapered off, pushing the church out of her mind. "God knows I'll love you today and tomorrow and eighty three days from now. No matter what the future brings, in fact. You're mine," she smiled as if the realization had just sunk in. "And I can think of no better way to begin our year than by loving one another."

"Jean. I've loved you and wanted you for so long. Another eighty-three days is –"

"Unbearable," she declared, smoothing her hands up and down his chest.

He exhaled heavily, shutting his eyes. "I was going to say 'endurable'," he slurred.

"Lucien," she moved against him. "I don't want you to have to endure anything. Especially since we would both be bearing it for nothing. I mean it. Please, believe me, Lucien. I know you're worried that I'm giving up who I am or that I think God will be disappointed in me. The God I believe in will look at our situation and understand. We've been through so much," she expressed, choking over her words. She paused and swallowed before moving on, "You're going to be my husband," she beamed as she said this. "I need you. Please don't tell me I'll have this much trouble getting you into bed when we are officially married."

She felt herself rising as he lifted her off the couch in his arms. He kissed her hungrily, exploring her mouth with his tongue as he hoisted her and settled her legs at his waist. She enveloped them around him as he headed in the direction of his bedroom. As he opened the door with his hip, he couldn't help but think of Jean's choice of words. "When we are officially married,"… as if they had been unofficially married all these years. Lucien chuckled at thoughts of friends and even strangers making jabbing comments insinuating as much as he set her down on his bed. He'd be sure to bring all that up to her later.

"What is it?" she hummed up at him.

"Oh, it's nothing. I was just thinking of the happy year ahead of us," and with that he lay down across her,with a need to show her just how true that was.


End file.
